Time
by Gleehipster
Summary: She's broken, in more than one way. Spoilers for 3x06, Mash-off.


**Pairing:** Brittany/Santana  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> the characters don't belong to me, otherwise I would be freaking rich.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> It's the _I have to_ that makes her body tremble so violently.  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> 3x06 Mash-off  
><strong>Author's note:<strong> A big _thank you_ to TheVeiledFairy for proofreading/beta-ing this for me.

* * *

><p>She's broken, in more than one way.<p>

She shouldn't be feeling like this. Like her life is falling apart. Like the world has stopped spinning. Like just about everything has been taken away from her. It should be different. Another _kind_ of different. The good kind, where she is happy and sappy with the purest of emotions occupying her mind. It should be different.

Her right hand stings– no sears – with pain. It's the only thing she can really feel right now. Which is by no means a bad thing. It keeps her from thinking that her life is over. That she may lose her friends. That she will most definitely lose her family. And that she couldn't decide on her own, when to lose it all. A decision made for her; taken _from_ her without her consent. She hates it.

She also hates Finn Hudson and the way Rachel looks at her in this very moment. Hell, the way they all look at her. Like she has lost her mind. Which could very well be true. She's never been known to be able to control herself. Not that she wants to. Most of the times, it just feels too overwhelming. The need to let people know just how much they suck, that is. And today, she has taken it to a whole new level. She doesn't necessarily feel guilty about it.

The frustrating thing about the way they look at her is that they just don't understand. They can't fathom just how much damage a bunch of words can do. They just look at her with their unbelieving eyes and shocked expressions as if it was all her fault. It's really not. At least not entirely.

She may have gone too far this time with her insults and scheming ways, but no matter how you twist and turn it, what she said to Finn? It pales in comparison to the things she will have to face from this very moment and onwards. It will be hell. Her own personal hell.

Her eyes dart around the auditorium, time standing still. It's not until her eyes land on Kurt that she realizes that there is someone who understands; someone who knows just how terrified she is of what's to come. Terrified of what her life will be like from now on. A personal hell, indeed.

"Santana," Brittany's voice pervades her ears, soft and distant. It makes her want to cry even more. _She might not love you back..._It just won't stop replaying in her head; taunting her. Destroying her. It just won't stop.

She knows she shouldn't care. Shouldn't let Finn's words get to her, but she can't stop her mind from wandering; can't stop her heart from remembering the hurt, the insufferable pain she had felt a year ago when Brittany hadn't been hers. When she had been all alone in her room, crying for something she had thought she had lost forever.

What she recalls from it is only a fraction of the pain she had felt at that time. It's strong enough to turn her knees weak and make her sway for a second before she is able to regain control over her body again.

"Santana.." this time, it's Shelby who tries to shake her out of her haze. It doesn't help one single bit. In fact, nothing helps. Not the comforting hand on her back that unmistakably belongs to her girlfriend, not the sight of Finn looking like shit. It doesn't help. Not this time, not ever.

Before she can even comprehend what's going on, her feet carry her forward. She's running. Running for her dear life. Trying to flee that dark monster that seems to be chasing her. It's so fast that no matter how hard she tries, she can't outrun it. Can't outrun herself. It's terrifying.

Her toned legs carry her out of the auditorium, down the hallways and further until she's outside. She hears people screaming after her, chasing after her. And she can't bring herself to care about them. They chant her name over and over again, voices so desperate, so perplexed that she considers doing a 180 and delivering some more slaps. Instead, she lets whatever has possessed her lead her away. Away from the noises, away from the responsibilities, away from her life. It's sad, though, that she can't run away forever. She wishes she could and the thought alone seems appealing, strongly so. But in the end, it's all in vain.

* * *

><p>It doesn't make any sense that she stands in front of her home, breathless and exhausted. It freaking doesn't make any sense that she chooses this as her safe haven. Because it has never been before. Where Brittany is, that's the place she always feels safest; where her love is. It's where her home is. And this, what she's standing right in front of now. This is not her home. Not at all.<p>

The key turns in the lock and she dashes inside, closing the door soundly behind her. No one cares, because no one is there. She doesn't need to look, she just knows it right away. It has always been this way, so why should it change now? There's no reason for her father to be there, greeting her with a firm hand on her shoulder and an affectionate kiss to her forehead. There's no chance in hell her mom stands in the kitchen, heating up a meal for her to dig into after a long day at school. It has never been like this and it never, ever will be.

Oh, how much she had wished for it to be different when she had been younger. It got her a lot of heartbreak and nothing else.

The stairs creak under her weight as she dashes up, desperate to get to her room. It's dark and comfy and everything she needs right now. It's perfect for her, because it's the only thing that reminds her of who she is. Because it _is_ her. Every poster, every pillow, every freaking photo on her nightstand and shoplifted item on her drawer, that is who she is, and it is something that has yet to be violated.

The dress she's wearing feels heavy on her, clinging to her body so tightly that she feels like it's suffocating her. She almost rips it apart, trying to wriggle out of it. Her sweat serves as some sort of glue that makes it so very hard to peel away from her searing skin. But when she finally manages to break free, it kind of feels amazing. A burden lifted from her shoulders; from her body.

The feeling doesn't last long and when it vanishes completely, it leaves behind something akin to pure devastation. Everything comes crushing down on her again. The ad campaign with her face on it, the voice in her head whispering failure...

She breaks. For the very first time in her life, she breaks entirely. Nothing will ever be the same. The whole world will see her in a different light now. She could be the purest, earnest, and most lovable person on earth and some people would still treat her like she's the devil himself.

"Kinda shows what a fucked up world we live in," she muses, even as she cries herself bare on her bed.

* * *

><p>It's a good hour later and she has almost passed out from all the sobbing, when she feels the mattress dip. She doesn't freak out, because she knows who it is. She knew from the moment she heard the front door open and close quietly, from the light tapping of footsteps on cold parquet.<p>

"Hey," Brittany whispers in her ear. And suddenly, it feels like home again. An arm winds around her torso, strong as it draws her in. She can feel Brittany's body pressing against her back, curling around her body. Yeah, this definitely _is_ home.

It's in that very moment that Finn's voice crawls back into her head. It makes her wish she had actually punched him instead of just slapped.

She grows insecure again, even with Brittany being right there, spooning her tightly, perfectly. Because it is simply too good to be true. Because Brittany is innocent, beautiful, ethereal. Everything she, herself, is not.

"Could you– Can you please just–" she stops herself before she screws this up. How is she supposed to overcome her insecurities when she has to ask her girlfriend to tell her that she loves her? Who the hell does that even?

She's lucky that Brittany really is the most perfect girl she has ever met.

"I love you. So, so much," Brittany murmurs against her neck, making goosebumps rise across her skin.

She wishes she could do more than break out into another fit of hysterical sobs, but at least it's out of sheer relief and happiness this time. Instantly, the grip Brittany has on her tightens.

"It'll be okay. I promise."

And it will be.

Someday, she knows that it will be, as long as she has Brittany by her side. She's what gives her hope for the future; for a better life. One filled with love and hope and just everything she needs to be truly and utterly happy. Brittany can give her that, but more importantly, she herself wants this, too. She wants to accept herself and love herself and really _be_ herself.

It's just that she's so afraid of everybody else. Mostly of her parents and grandma. They never cared that much for her before and she came to accept that a long time ago, but she doesn't think she can handle them being even more distant; maybe even hating her. Because she has really no idea why she would deserve that.

The fact that she doesn't have a choice is the worst thing, though. If she had a few more months, or just a few more weeks, to prepare herself for this. A little more time to be ready to face her family, she thinks me might have been able to do this.

But now? It's the _I have to_ that makes her body tremble so violently. It should have been her decision. _Her_ freaking decision, and the fact that it's not is what drives her insane.

She has less than a week before this clip airs. Not even one single week. It's pathetic.

Brittany's breath ghosts across her neck, steady and soothing. She continues to sob as Brittany moves to coo softly into her ear. Another "I love you," flows like honey from her lips, coating her heart in sticky sweetness.

It's only then that she realizes just how exhausted she is. Her body feels drained, all life sucked out of her, leaving her completely dry and empty. The heat emanating from Brittany warms her otherwise cold body. She's so very tired. Tired of hiding, tired of thinking, tired of worrying and feeling and breathing and living. She just wants to sleep. For a few glorious moments, she wants peace and quiet to rule her world.

And she decides that she will give herself those few minutes in heaven. Before she has to get up and get dressed. Before she has to send Brittany home so that her girlfriend is gone when her parents come home. Before she has to prepare a big coming out speech and all that stuff.

Just a few more minutes, or hours. Maybe even one last day. She'll do it, she just needs a little more time to herself first.


End file.
